Sacrifice
by eldnia
Summary: As Snape is coming to terms with his feelings for Lupin, his work as a Spy within the Death Eaters is discovered by Voldemort with devastating consequences.
1. Default Chapter

Darkness surrounded the castle, suffocating the final remnants of light that were fighting to cling to their existence with all the valour and strength that they could muster. Such is the way of his world, obscurity enveloping all that is bright; clutching at it and dancing around it like eerie fingers of cloud that pass across a full moon until finally, they grab it in their fist, and the luminosity is no more.

How ironic that he should think of the moon now. There are many ways to look at the moon, numerous ways to perceive it. That majestic silvery orb that presides over its nightly kingdom until it relinquishes its throne to the blazing of the early morning sun. For some it is the perfect depiction of romanticism as they walk across the grounds, their way illuminated by silvers of silvery ribbon bobbing and weaving through the shadows of the forest beyond and the ghostly silhouette of the castle behind them. However, for others the moon brings indescribable torment. Spawning monsters from its innocence, its children roam the lands preying on the innocent while by day they suffer the imaginings of the horrors which they may have committed; atrocities, which had they been able to prevent themselves, they would never have perpetrated.

Slumped against the icy stone interior wall, he observed from his shadowy corner. Shrouded in the thick blackness he lingered there, just like he did every other night. Waiting and observing, like a hunter observes the habits of his prey before carrying out his fatal assault. Patiently he stood with an unwavering eye, until his persistence was rewarded.

It happened so suddenly that someone less meticulous and assiduous may well have missed it, but not him. His unfaltering gaze never strayed from the entrance to the Great Hall until finally he saw the figure of that which he sought after moving easily through the throng of students that were vacating the Hall.

The other was not aware that he was being stalked, that hungry eyes were upon him, drinking in his image greedily like a vulture attacking a fresh carcass. Moving swiftly and easily through the crowd, he began his climb up the stairs to his chambers in blissful ignorance. An involuntary growl escaped from the observer's tightly pursed lips at this thought and he cursed himself for his momentary lack of restraint. There were places he could not follow, and those places were the ones he most longed to go.

Severus Snape was not accustomed to not being able to attain that which he coveted. He was in a powerful position, one where he could fulfil a man's dreams, prolong his life, give him everything he could possibly want, all with the brewing of a potion. There was, however, no potion in the world that would give him what he craved. That which caused his blood to gush through his veins in a thunderous torrent that rang in his ears. For the touch of the man he had lusted after for so long; to have him at his mercy, begging him to do the things his body ached to do, and in turn be reduced to such sweet humility that he would beg for the same until together they would lay, perfectly spent.

The thought was more than he could endure. Straightening, he smoothed his robes which had begun to wrinkle and crease from being pressed against the stone for such an extended period. Taking a few, small, slow steps out of the gloom he prepared himself to join the world in which he felt so uncomfortable, so alien. Schooling his features into a hard glare, he took the final steps with the air of a confidence that he did not feel.

The light dazzling his eyes after the comfortable murkiness of the corner that he had occupied, he strode purposefully towards the giant staircase that was rumbling as its great flights abruptly changed their position leaving the students climbing up them stranded for a few moments. He noted with some pleasure the panic stricken faces of the first years, who had still not grown accustomed to this event, as they grouped together, huddled as though somehow their being surrounded by one another would protect them from the terrible fate of landing on a passageway that was not their destination.

A couple of terrified second years separated to make way for him to walk between them. He paused briefly, looking at them both in such a manner that they were sure he was about to dock points from their house, or worse yet, give them detention, simply because they had the misfortune of being on a same stretch of corridor at the precise moment that he himself happened to be there. Snape revelled in their fear; he loved the feeling of the adrenaline rushing through his veins as the students trembled in his presence. One student he particularly enjoyed tormenting was Neville Longbottom, although he simply needed to be present in the same room as the boy to reduce him to a quivering, stuttering fool unable to string even the most basic of sentences together or carry out the simplest of actions. _Not too unlike his normal character really when one thinks about it, _Snape thought, feeling slightly put out as he did so.

Casting a glance to the staircase that was just moving towards the second floor corridor, Snape watched as Remus Lupin waited patiently for them to become stationary once more, passing the time by speaking to the group of students who had surrounded him. He was smiling, and he could hear the cheerful tones of his laughter floating on the breeze that moved through the castle, echoing it all around him. _What the blazes does _he_ have to be so happy about?_ A wave of anger flooding over him, he could feel his face twist and contort into a terrifying snarl. The students that were around him began to increase the floor space between themselves and their potions master, as if an invisible barrier had suddenly been put into place around him, preventing anyone from coming within twelve feet of him.

Casting his eyes around him, he felt the need to vent some of his anger. Spying a rather sheepish looking female first year walking towards the staircase, trying to balance a dangerously large pile of books in her arms, Snape called out to her causing her to drop a few as she jumped, startled by his voice. "You! What is the meaning of you walking around unable to see over that pile of books? 10 points from Ravenclaw for being such a walking health hazard and be grateful I don't take a further 5 for you being such a fool." Indeed the pile of books she was carrying was not so high that it even came near to obscuring her vision, but seeing her clear blue eyes begin to sparkle as they began to well up with tears, and her pale cheeks flush under the harshness of his words, Snape felt somewhat alleviated. Smiling his usual sardonic smile, he began to climb the stairs towards the second floor, and the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor's Office.

Reaching the door, Snape found it ajar and he could hear Lupin walking about inside humming softly to himself. Closing his eyes, he allowed the sweet sound to flow over him. Lupin had the most engaging voice, sweeter than the honey from the specially bred bees that Hogwarts imported for use in their grand feasts.

After standing there for a few moments, sure that Lupin had not detected his presence, he carefully peered through the crack in the doorway. He watched as Lupin loosened his tie and settled down into his chair, lounging back and lifting his legs to rest them on the tabletop that was strewn with bars of chocolate and wrappings, pieces of parchment, inkbottles, and a single photo frame.

The room quietened as Snape observed Lupin's eyes as they fell upon the photo. Reaching out to pick up the frame, a look of sadness and longing fell over the placid face of the man, adding to his already older than his years appearance. Snape knew of whom the picture was of. They had been such good friends, more like family really, and now Lupin was the only one who remained. Alone once again in a world that despised and feared him, he must have missed his old friends terribly.

It angered Snape, angered him to an extreme that the blood flowing through his veins felt more like the fiery magma thrown forth from the depths of an erupting volcano. He was here, and yet Lupin could not see him. Each day he was there, he took care of him, helped him, and still he was invisible. He may as well have been wearing that loathsome Potter boy's cloak.

Stepping back from the doorway, Snape began to make his way downward once again. He would make Lupin realise. Some way, some how, Snape would make him see, and he would be his. What Severus Snape wanted, Severus Snape got; and his sights were fixed firmly on Remus Lupin.


	2. Chapter 2

He awoke early the following morning to the sound of the howling wind battering rain against the slightly open window. Climbing out of bed, Snape shivered slightly as the cool breeze chilled his naked body, causing tiny goose pimples to rise all over. Padding softly, he quickly moved to close it, finding himself unpleasantly splashed with icy cold droplets of rain as they were blown through the opening in the process.

It wasn't quite dark outside, rather, that moment where everything was more dark blue than the black of night. The sun had not yet risen above horizon and inflicted its harsh brightness upon the slumbering world, although Snape often thought that he could smell its arrival as surely as the breakfast cooking in the kitchens. It was now that Severus felt most at ease. The castle was still echoing with the sounds of the gentle snoring coming from the paintings that lined the corridors, and there were no bothersome children creeping among the shadows, trying to move throughout the castle undetected by Flich and Mrs Norris. He could be alone with his thoughts, and Severus Snape had a great many thoughts to be alone with.

He showered quickly and removed a fresh set of robes from his wardrobe, leaving a line of identical ones hanging immaculately on the rail. Snape was very much a creature of habit. Every morning he would rise before the dawn and walk the dark, deserted corridors of the castle, arriving moments later at his office where he would sit and mark the tedious and sloppy assignments that had been handed in. Occasionally he would encounter Peeves on his way; who would sing a song and blow raspberries at him before moving along. How Snape wished that Dumbledore would do something about that poltergeist, he really was most infuriating. Naturally, Snape could think of a number of things he would rather enjoy doing himself, but Dumbledore would never allow it.

Today had been no different. He had taken no less than ten steps when the apparition in all its Technicolor glory, came speeding down the corridor towards him, howling and screaming and making enough noise to have several of the portraits wake up and shout at the spirit to silence itself. Peeves merely laughed at them before coming to a stop beside Snape and bursting into song.

"_Silly old Professor Snape has never even had a date._

_His hair so dark and thick and greasy, it made all the girls so sick and queasy."_

Glaring at Peeves, Snape drew his wand. "On your way Peeves."

Cackling in response, Peeves circled Snape. "Why would I want to do that? You can't touch me, Dumbleydore won't allow it."

A smirk spreading over his lips, only barely concealing the anger that had begun to rise deep within him, Snape spoke softly. "Because if you don't, I shall summon the Bloody Baron. I am sure he would be most happy to help a Professor of this school in ridding himself of a nuisance."

Its movement slowing, Peeves came to a halt in front of Snape, edging closer so that had its face been corporeal it would have certainly touched Snape's own. It hovered there for a moment, and Snape resisted the strong urge to growl at it and storm off, knowing that to do so would only provoke the poltergeist more. Snape hated wasting time, and as he stood there the thousand and one other things he could be doing flashed through his mind with blinding speed, until finally, with one parting raspberry Peeves spun and began to hurl back down the corridor making as much noise as had heralded its arrival.

Snape remained rooted to the spot. Taking a few deep, calming breaths, he willed the rage that was bubbling silently below the surface to subside before it gave him a worse headache than Peeves had already initiated. Tucking his wand back into this robes, he continued on his way towards his Office, arriving only a few moments later. Waving his hand, he countered the many sealing charms that protected the room. It was often thought that Snape's Office was one of the most protected rooms in all of Hogwarts, possible exceptions being perhaps the chamber where the Philosopher's Stone lay hidden a few years previously and the Chamber of Secrets that had lain undiscovered since Salazar Slytherin's departure from the school.

Waving his wand at the candlesticks as he swept past them, the room became aglow with the soft, golden light that emanated from them. The air was thick and heavy, and to anyone other than Snape it would probably seem somewhat suffocating, however he was accustomed to the atmosphere, and it suited him quite well. Settling down into his chair, he unlocked the upper most drawer in his desk and removed the pile of assignments that he had to mark.

Half an hour had passed as his beetle black eyes scanned the pieces of parchment, the pile growing ever lower. The silence was only punctuated by the scratching of his quill as he scribbled corrections and comments, before finally it fell silent and was laid upon the desk. Rubbing his eyes with his thumb and index finger, he stretched his legs and relaxed back into the hard chair. There was still an hour until breakfast. His marking hadn't taken as long this morning as it usually does, the assignments somewhat shorter than he was accustomed to handing out.

Standing slowly, he decided upon going for a walk. The howling wind and chill of the rain was no deterrent for Snape, often preferring to walk in these conditions as it ensured that he met as few people as possible. Placing the assignments back into the desk and locking it once again, he extinguished the candles as he passed them by, the room gradually growing dimmer as he did so until it was once again filled with the velvety blackness that still took precedence through the rest of the castle.

As he walked the deserted corridors he found his thoughts drifting to the man he had pledged to make his own. With every step he took towards the doors in the Entrance Hall, he found his feet willing him to walk in the opposite direction, a small voice in his head telling him that he would only visit for a moment. Surrendering to the allure, he hurried quickly up the flights of stone stairs, arriving outside the Dark Arts Professors office a few moments later, panting slightly, a thin film of sweat causing his brow to glisten.

Placing his hand upon the door, he gently positioned his ear next to it, checking for any signs of movement from within. Upon hearing none, he slowly moved his hand to the knob and turned it gently, careful to make as little noise as possible. It squeaked as he turned it, a sound that to him was deafening although he knew that it only appeared so due to the silence that surrounded him. Pausing briefly, he placed his ear against the door once again to ensure that the disturbance hadn't reached the chambers within and cause Lupin to rise. Satisfied that it hadn't, he pushed the door open, and peered around its edge.

The room beyond was still cloaked in darkness, the only sign of life coming from the gentle lopping of water as the Grindylow moved about within the confines of its tank. Edging in, he carefully closed the door, leaving it slightly ajar, and pulled out his wand. "Lumos" he muttered, silently moving towards the front of the room.

The light radiating from the tip of his wand cast a ghostly silver glow around him, the sudden brightness causing dark spots to dance in front of his eyes for several moments before they finally adjusted to the light. He was certain that the glare would be insufficient to disturb Lupin, the door to his private chambers still closed.

Snape felt his pulse quicken, his heart pounding harder in his chest as he thought of the man who lay just beyond the door, tantalizingly close and yet still so far from reach. In his mind's eye he could see him lying there, sheets at his waist revealing a torso that Snape longed to run his hands over, heaving slightly as his breathing grew deeper and slower. His is face peaceful and serene as dreams visited him, Snape saw himself stretching out his hand and running it through the mass of ruffled greying hair, stroking it soothingly. _One day_ he thought.

On reaching Lupin's desk, Snape slowly ran a hand over it. It contained no traces of the litter that had covered it last evening; the house elves had already been and tidied. Nevertheless, books were lay open upon the desk where Lupin had left them, and judging from the looks of the creatures staring back it him off of the pages, he had been researching items for inclusion in his class when he had abandoned them for sleep.

Moving to the chair which had long since become cool after the warmth that it had gained from Lupin's use, he perched himself on its edge, enjoying the feeling of the smooth wood as it glided beneath his fingertips. He recalled the last time he had seen Lupin sitting in this very spot. He had been holding the picture frame that was sitting across from him now, sadness and longing on his face. Reaching out, Snape picked up the photo and gazed at it. He could see the four of them, Lupin, Pettigrew, Potter and Black, smiling back at him. Black was ruffling Lupin's hair as Remus smiled lopsided at the camera while trying to fight Black off.

He wasn't sure how long he sat and looked at the picture. It was hard to tell which emotion was stronger, the intense longing to be that intimate with Lupin, or the anger and frustration that the four friends laughing and enjoying themselves before his eyes had been the cause of much of his own pain during his school days. Perhaps part of Snape still resented Lupin's role in those events. Although he had never directly caused him any harm, he seemed to make no attempt to prevent his friends from doing so either. Yes, Snape had forgiven Lupin for the incident at the Shrieking Shack long ago. It had taken a solemn word from Dumbledore to make him realise that Remus had been just as much a casualty of that incident as he was. Yet, the bitterness refused to truly leave him, Snape finding that he had to be content with burying it deep within the chambers of his heart where he concealed so many things.

He replaced the photograph, standing as he did so. The room was no longer consumed by shadow as the rays of the first light of the morning pierced the darkness. "Nox" he whispered as he made his way towards the door. He longed to stay, to sit by the door, revelling in having Lupin so close, but he knew he would be rising soon. Snape would see him at breakfast, and as he closed the door silently on his retreat, he found himself thinking that breakfast couldn't come soon enough.


	3. Chapter 3

As usual, Snape was among the first of those to arrive in the Great Hall for breakfast. When he had to dine in the presence of the others, he far preferred to do so while it was relatively quiet. He loathed having to sit and make small talk with his fellow Professors while they ate, often finding himself making his excuses and leaving his own meal half eaten in a desperate attempt to escape from their mind numbing chatter.

Taking his seat, he looked down at the room that lay out before him. The four house tables, much like the one he sat at, were already laden with breakfast foods and drinks to suit every preference, even the most difficult to please. Very few students had arrived, however among those that had were a handful of eager looking Ravenclaws who were grouped together at the far end of their table, huddled and whispering among themselves while stealing hesitant glances towards the teacher's table and Snape. Immediately recognising one of the students as the girl whom he reprimanded the previous day, Snape glared back at them, menace in his dark eyes, and watched with a swell of satisfaction as they pulled apart and ate the remainder of their breakfast in silence. Smirking to himself, he surveyed the table in front of him, trying to decide what his stomach felt able to handle this morning.

Finally deciding on a slice of toast, Snape nibbled absently on it while his anxious eyes watched the door for signs of Lupin's arrival. Part of him hated this morning ritual, how he craved to see the other man, each moment seemingly taking longer than the one before. He hated that he was a slave to him, more so that he was a _willing _slave. If there was anything that Snape prided himself on it was being reliant on no one and nothing, however Lupin destroyed this comfort and the fact that he was blissfully unaware of this did nothing to appease Snape's annoyance; in fact, it only served to intensify it.

Moments that seemed more like months passed and finally Snape's patience was rewarded as he caught a glimpse of the tired and worn figure of Lupin as he emerged through the tall, open doorway. Ignoring the constriction in his chest that accompanied the sight, Snape watched his quarry through lowered lids as he made his way to the teacher's table, stopping occasionally on the way to chat amiably with students; wishing them a good morning and asking them how their assignments were coming along and if they required any assistance.

From his distance at the table, Snape watched as Lupin's eyes twinkled as he talked animatedly with the Gryffindor trio, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. How Snape despised those children. Potter, arrogant and self absorbed like his father; Weasley as stupid and ridiculous as the rest of his family, and Granger, the insufferable know-it-all who never missed an opportunity to open her mouth and show off her vast knowledge of apparently _everything_.

Sneering malevolently, Snape felt a pang of bitterness as he observed the scene before his eyes. It was clear that Lupin had a fondness for the Potter boy, hardly surprising when he resembled his father so closely, in appearance as well as personality in Snape's opinion. Lupin missed his old friend greatly, and no doubt having Potter there was something of a comfort to him, perhaps even feeling some obligation to take care of the boy now that he was an orphan.

_But who takes care of Lupin? _Snape thought angrily to himself. _I do. Does he notice this though? Of course not. _

Snorting he picked up a goblet of pumpkin juice and took a sip, taking a moment to regain his composure and calm his ragged, infuriated breath as he watched Lupin smile once more at the trio and continue on his way towards the table.

He wondered where Lupin would choose to sit. There were several vacant seats, spanning the length of the table, so he found himself somewhat surprised as his colleague lowered himself down into the chair next to his own. "Good morning Severus," he greeted, his voice friendly, although containing none of the warmth that Snape had often detected as being present when Lupin spoke with others.

Looking up from the spot on the floor that he had been pointedly looking at, Snape's eyes met Lupin's only for a moment as he returned the salutation. "Lupin." He drawled, taking a moment to quickly commit the image facing him to memory before reverting his gaze back to its previous point of interest. He fought the feeling of acrimony that began to rise within him at the realization that Lupin's eyes had lost the sparkle that they had contained for their students, although he took a little comfort in the fact that his smile, at least, was still amiable.

Sitting in silence for several moments, Snape mused upon the realisation that Lupin looked tired, as though the night had not brought much sleep to him at all, at least not any sleep that proved restful. Snape had potions for that, of course, but he was not about to comment on seeing his fellow Professor's drawn features and blackened eyes, as that would imply that he took notice, and Snape wanted Lupin to realise this on his own, without any obvious aide from him. Mind you, how one could get more obvious than brewing a complicated potion such as the Wolfsbane, each month was beyond Snape's comprehension.

_But he thinks you do it because Dumbledore insists that you do. _

Of course, Snape knew that this was true. Much of anything he did for Lupin was at the direct request of the Headmaster, and so it had always been. Lupin had no good reason to suspect that Snape had any regard for him, not following his treatment of him in previous years, and especially not after he let word of his condition slip to the Slytherins on the night that Black escaped from the Dementors. However Snape had thought that perhaps things had changed, at least he knew they had for him and part of him could not help but hope that the same was true for Lupin.

Thinking back, he was unable to remember exactly when his feelings towards the werewolf had begun to change from a mere tolerance to something akin to interest before finally evolving into a desperate desire and longing to make the man his own.

During their work with the Order, Snape and Lupin had been forced to put their animosity to one side, acknowledging following that fateful night that resulted in Lupin resigning from his position at Hogwarts, that they were in fact on the same side and would be required to work with one another. At first Snape had been incensed. He could not believe that even after the debacle with Black that Dumbledore would trust Lupin enough to allow him into the Order. However, it was soon pointed out to him that not only was Lupin an extremely talented wizard, wise in the ways of dark magic defences, but that they were severely lacking in number and needed any loyal assistance that they could find.

Their roles within the Order were very different, and always separate. Rarely were they called upon to assist one another, only ever having contact during the sporadic meetings that were called in Grimmauld Place. For the first year they barely exchanged glances let alone words; neither feeling the need nor the desire to speak to the other unless it was absolutely necessary. Then came the events at the Department of Mysteries. Snape had not been present, but he had heard all of what had happened and for as much as he despised Black, he was surprised by how difficult he found observing Lupin's reaction to his death.

Lupin never openly mourned the loss of his friend; he had, from what Snape had seen, always tried his best to maintain a level of professionalism, but more importantly, he seemed determined to present himself as a pillar of strength to Potter, who took the news of his beloved Godfather's demise somewhat badly. Between throwing continual temper tantrums and causing those who cared about him even more worry, Potter continued to think of no one other than him self. Lupin's own loss was a private affair and one he seemed to deal with behind closed doors.

For the first time Snape began to feel a need to do something; to ease the pain that was so obvious to him, if only because he could not bear to see it himself. Perhaps it was because Snape could see the pain that was so evident in Lupin's eyes each time they met, or maybe it was because he could hear how his voice trembled as he spoke to Potter, desperately trying to keep himself together for the child's sake. However, it seemed more likely that it was because everyone else was so absorbed in what they were doing that none seemed to notice the turmoil that Lupin was enduring on his own. For all his bitterness and anger, Snape knew only to well the burden of carrying pain alone, and as much as he told himself that he hated Lupin and what he was, he also knew that he was a good and decent man, deserving better than the life that had been dealt to him.

And so Snape had watched, and he had listened, growing ever more interested in the man, and discovering something almost like respect for him. When Dumbledore approached him a few weeks before the start of term and told Snape that he was considering requesting that Lupin rejoin the teaching staff, Snape had merely nodded and asked if this meant that he would be required to make the Wolfsbane potions once again, which of course he knew he would be. Lupin loved teaching, and Snape genuinely believed that this would prove to be an excellent way to help the other man over come his loss, and for his part, Snape aimed to make the process as easy as he could.

Lupin had, somewhat hesitantly, accepted the position, and had now been back at Hogwarts for a little over two weeks. Snape had, of course, been keeping a careful watch on him, pleased to see that he seemed to have fallen back into his old routine quickly. In fact, in many ways, it was as though he had never been away.

His thoughts were brought back to the present then, as out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Lupin raising his glance to the ceiling above them, which, in reflection of the current weather conditions outside, was dark and stormy as rain fell in torrents around them yet never reached the occupiers of the room.

"It looks as though it is going to be a dreadful day. I do hope the weather clears for the match this afternoon."

Snape had been enjoying the silence, mulling over his thoughts while relishing the feeling of having the man he desired so close to him. Close enough so that he could smell the combination of soap and chocolate that wafted on the air - the last thing he had any interest in now was small talk. Regardless, however, these moments alone with Lupin were rare, and without appearing eager, Snape was loathe to allow it to pass leaving him with nothing to mull over other than the vivid memory of the man seated next to him.

"I don't know Lupin. I am rather looking forward to the match. Slytherin play well in all conditions after all, it is just a great pity the same cannot be said for Gryffindor."

Chuckling, Lupin helped himself to some eggs and bacon. "Is that why Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup last year then?"

Narrowing his eyes, Snape fixed Lupin with one of his best glares, annoyed that it seemed to have had no effect as his companion continued munching away on a piece of particularly crunchy bacon looking completely un-phased by the penetrating glower that was burrowing its way into the side of his head.

"And without their star player no less," he retorted, shooting a glance over towards Potter as he did so. "Perhaps he isn't quite as indispensable as we have all been led to believe."

"Come now Severus. That was hardly Harry's fault. Umbridge was...well..." Lupin broke off, obviously struggling to find a suitably polite word that would describe the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor from the previous year. In fact, truth be told, Snape would have had difficulty in doing so either. He too found her a good deal stricter than was entirely necessary, and some of her punishments left even him feeling disturbed, which was no easy accomplishment.

"Whether or not it was Potter's fault is entirely beside the point Lupin, although I for one am not convinced that he was utterly blameless in the matter that caused him to be banned from playing." Smirking at the memory, Snape delighted in having had, at least for a short time, someone whose loathing of Harry Potter was almost on a par with his own. Of course Dolores Umbridge did go too far, as a Professor he couldn't deny that, but he did admit to having felt some small swell of satisfaction at his life being made so utterly intolerable by her.

"My point was that their celebrity seeker isn't so indispensable to the team as was once believed." Interrupted by a gentle pressure of a hand that had been laid upon his shoulder, Snape looked up, and was started to find Professor Dumbledore smiling down at him over the rim of his half moon spectacles.

"Forgive my intrusion Gentleman, but Severus, may I have a quiet word in private?"

_No. Not now. Why did you have to come now?_

Curling his lips into an obliging smile, hoping that his annoyance with the interruption was not too noticeable, Snape nodded and rose from his chair. "Of course Headmaster." Turning his head towards Lupin, he nodded it slightly by way of a parting greeting. "Lupin, if you shall excuse me."

Dumbledore, as always, had impeccable timing, he thought wryly, as he followed the elderly wizard out of the Great Hall and towards his office. Being summoned this early could only mean one thing, and Snape's heart sank as the realization washed over him like the torrent of icy rain that was falling outside. For a moment, he had been bathed in light, and now, just as a candle is extinguished by the wind, Snape found him self once again plunged into the world of darkness where he was forced to dwell.


	4. Chapter 4

He followed the elderly wizard through the corridors of the castle until eventually they arrived at Dumbledore's office. Opening the door, Dumbledore beckoned Snape to enter and take a seat. He did as he was instructed, perching himself on a large chair opposite the Headmaster's desk. Looking around the room, the past Headmasters of Howarts moved from portrait to portrait, whispering and casting glances in Snape's direction. As Dumbledore made his way to his desk, he paused momentarily to give Fawkes an affectionate stroke on the beak. The bird cooed contentedly as it raised its beak to the finger, giving it a gentle nip, causing Dumbledore to chuckle quietly to himself.

"Forgive me for calling you away from your breakfast Severus, however I am sure you appreciate the importance of these meetings taking place as early as possible." Dumbledore smiled as he picked up a bowl of assorted candy and offered it to Snape. Snape merely shook his head in polite declination, and watched as Dumbledore shrugged and helped himself to a Lemon Sherbet, sucking gently on it as he sat.

"Of course, Headmaster," Snape replied cordially. Indeed, he could not fathom why the meetings would _not _ be of importance, he was merely irritated that he had been called away while enjoying a rare tête-à –tête with Lupin. However, he understood and appreciated that these meetings were of greater value than the matters of his personal life. It was just one of the many sacrifices that he had to make to fulfil his duty.

Severus Snape had been working as a spy for Dumbledore within the Death Eaters for quite some time. Shortly after he had first joined their ranks, he had become disillusioned. He had inadvertently discovered that Voldemort was in fact a Half-Blood and given his Master's intense hatred and disgust for anything that was not Pureblood, Snape had considered this a betrayal. It was a feeling that lingered within him even to this day – despite the fact that this own tolerance, although not complete, had greatly increased.

The discovery in itself, however, was not what had caused his defection, but it had led him to take a closer look at the circle to which he belonged. Within the group, he had hoped to find companionship, and a sense of belonging that he had never felt anywhere else. Dark magic had always appealed to him, and he was extremely proficient at it; knowing more curses and hexes than the Upperclassmen when he first arrived at Hogwarts. Being part of the Death Eaters had allowed him to indulge in these spells, and be among others who cared to do the same. However, the further he probed into the inner workings of group the more disgusted he became.

Voldemort controlled his followers using a regime of fear and loathing. He showed them no respect, and expected them to do his bidding while treating them as though they were mere servants – nothing more, nothing less. He considered no one his equal, looking down on any witch or wizard, believing himself better and more powerful than everyone else. Perhaps there was some truth in this factor. Voldemort was certainly a force to be reckoned with, and he could have used his capabilities for so many things, however his thirst for power was paramount, and soon anyone who did not follow him found their lives in danger.

Those who were brave enough to stand against him, once captured, were tortured and then executed. He rarely carried this action out on his own, usually delegating this task to his Death Eaters. When he received word that an Order had been established to eliminate him, he had simply laughed. His arrogance was astounding, truly believing that there was no one who could defeat him.

One by one, he had ordered his Death Eaters to eliminate the members of the so-called "Order of the Phoenix," granting them permission to use whatever means necessary so long as the job was complete. Eventually he had arrived at Snape. His task was to eliminate the Potters.

At first Snape was delighted at the prospect. He loathed James Potter and he had thought of being the one to snuff out his miserable life on more than one occasion, often fantasizing about it in great detail, carefully planning and acting it out in his head. However, now that the opportunity had fallen in his lap, Snape suddenly felt a chill go through him. He could not do it. No matter how desperately he wanted to, he could not be the one responsible for the death of James Potter.

As much as he despised him, James had saved Snape's life, which had left Snape forever in his debt. It was a bond that was inescapable, no matter how hard he tried to reason it away. He hated him, he owed him nothing; it was fault of James' friend that he was put in that position in the first place... The list was endless. However, the simple truth always remained the same. It was simply not a task that he could perform, and he dreaded the moment when he would have to tell Voldemort so.

No one dared refuse a task given to them by Voldemort. To do so was suicide, for he would torture you hours before finally extinguishing what little remained of your life. You would be made an example of; a warning to the others what would happen should they dare to question or deny him anything - and to think that Snape was going to do so, for _James Potter_. It was beyond comprehension, and had Snape not been so mind numbingly terrified he may well have laughed at the idea, passing it off as being ludicrous.

However, fate was to intervene and he was to be spared - Voldemort decided to perform the task himself. The reasons for this sudden change of plan, Snape had never been privy too, all he knew was that a wave of relief washed over him, allowing him to make the decision then to leave. He would seek out Dumbledore and inform him of all he knew. Voldemort needed to be stopped. Snape had no idea what he had been getting himself into when he made the foolish decision to join him, and now all he could think of was getting out of it – alive. What's more, if he informed Dumbledore of Voldemort's plans to kill the Potters, he stood a chance of being the means of their survival, and subsequently his debt to James would be paid off.

To Snape's astonishment, Dumbledore did not seem surprised by his decision to defect. He had merely thanked him for his assistance, and told him that it was imperative that he returned to Voldemort at once, as though they had never spoken. He was to continue with his duties as a Death Eater, and report to Dumbledore periodically at times that were safe to inform him for the current situation.

At this time, Snape did not know that Dumbledore was aware of a prophesy that had foretold of Voldemort's defeat by a baby born at the end of July. Had he, he would have been able to see the pieces of the puzzle falling into place. Why Voldemort suddenly decided to take the task on himself, rather than allow Snape to do it. For Voldemort to take care of something like this personally it had to have important, and Snape knew that his Master would relish in the thought of destroying the person who was thought to be the only one who could destroy him.

Things, however, did not to according to plan. Word of Voldemort's unexpected downfall sent shockwaves through the ranks of his Death Eaters. There was chaos and confusion everywhere as Aurors were closing in on them, arresting people Snape had only hours before been conversing with.

For days that seemed like weeks, Snape had hid. Taking refuge in whatever shadowy place he could find where he would blend in and not appear conspicuous. It had proven difficult. Everyone around him was jovial now that The Dark Lord had been defeated. For the first time in a great many years, people were no longer afraid, free from the dark cloud that had constantly loomed over them. That cloud however, had not lifted for Snape.

Soon, Snape himself was captured, although to his surprise was never brought to trial. Dumbledore had come to him then and told him he requested his return to Hogwarts. He would be given the position of Potions Master, feeling that perhaps Snape had dabbled in the Dark Arts enough. Therefore, it was that in the closing of 1980, Snape walked through the giant wooden doors of the school he had left only a few short years before, this time as a Professor.

The remaining Death Eaters were scattered. Many denounced their associations with Voldemort while others just kept their allegiance well hidden. Snape had been one of the latter. He had never openly mentioned his conversion to the Order, and so it was found that he was able to communicate with the existing Death Eaters with relative ease. He had managed to convince them that his role in Hogwarts was merely a cover, and an excellent opportunity to spy on those who would seek to prevent Voldemort from returning.

It had been a plan that worked well. On Voldemort's return, Snape had found that it was easy to reclaim his place within his service with little questioning. All the while, he had carefully noted the words and actions of his fellow Death Eaters, and on the mornings following each meeting, he and Dumbledore would meet and discuss the events.

"How did the meeting last night go, Severus?" Dumbledore enquired, looking at Snape over the rim of his spectacles as he had a habit of doing.

"The mood is very subdued," Snape recalled. "Voldemort has lost many of his most faithful servants and he appears to be feeling this loss greatly. There are a few new faces, but he is being careful. I feel his attempts to penetrate my mind more acutely now than before. I can resist him, but I believe it is a sign of his growing uncertainty. He doesn't believe he can trust us, and I suspect he has plans for a means of testing his servants, although at this time I do not know what they may be."

Dumbledore stroked the long white beard that fell from his chin pensively. "He suspects you?" he asked.

Shaking his head, Snape replied. "No, I do not believe so. I have heard whispering among the others. They all seem to share in my belief. This would seem to suggest that he has been scrutinising us all equally. At this stage I think he is just being careful."

Standing, Dumbledore smiled warmly as he extended his hand to Snape, and on Snape's acceptance of it, he placed his other hand over Snape's and shook it warmly. "Thank you Severus. Your service to the Order is, as always, appreciated." Releasing his hand, Dumbledore chuckled, "Now go and finish your breakfast," he said, ushering Snape towards the door. "And be sure to give my regards to Professor Lupin, should he still be there."

Looking at his superior with curiosity, which only seemed to amuse Dumbledore more, Snape bowed his head slightly in parting. "Should I encounter him I shall be sure to pass them on," and with a final bow he turned on his heel and left the room.


End file.
